Natural Human Reaction
by imperfectromance
Summary: It was a natural human reaction, or at least thats what Dean keeps telling himself.  one-shot


**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, the Impala, Sam, Dean, or Cas, blahblahh. All credit goes to Kripke because he is God.**

* * *

Sam Winchester usually relied on the Internet to tell him the answers when he didn't know something automatically. However, Sam knew the Interweb held no information as to why his brother and Castiel were acting so strangely.

The angel used to go to Dean whenever there was a problem in Heaven or something extreme was happening on Earth, but lately he'd been going to the youngest Winchester. Sam wasn't complaining; he liked the angel's company, even if it was to just talk business, but it was weird. He had always just assumed Castiel just preferred Dean's company.

Also, when Cas _was _talking to Sam and Dean walked in, the air would instantly go awkward, everyone shifting their weight and waiting to see what would happen next. It was the same each time, though: one of the two would hurry to find an excuse to leave, usually leaving the other grumbling in anger.

The worst part of it all was, if Sam tried to ask either men about it, they'd completely shut down. Dean would glare and promptly storm out, slamming doors and peeling away in the Impala to find comfort at the local bar (and, more likely than not, the local women). Castiel took a nicer route, staring quietly before flying off to wherever it was he went.

So, it was safe to say Sam Winchester was infuriated and confused.

* * *

Dean rested his forehead on the Impala's steering wheel, scratching his head lightly, eyes closing and a groan slipping from chapped lips. Sam had, once again, asked what was up with him and Cas.

Honestly, Dean himself didn't have any idea what was going on with the angel. After all, _Castiel_ had been the one to lean in first. It wasn't _Dean's _fault if he misunderstood the action. He was human, and when someone was standing against a kitchen counter and leaning in close to your face, you finish the move by placing your lips over theirs. Especially if that person's shirt was halfway unbuttoned and the tie was loose, and they looked like they had just finished either having sex or fighting.

It was a natural human reaction, Dean repeats in his head over and over, like a mantra. Because it couldn't be that Dean was _attracted _to the angel, or found Jimmy Novak's body alluring. Dean liked girls.

No! _Likes._ Not **liked.** He _likes_ the round softness of a woman's breast, and he _likes_ the intoxicating heat of the more intimate area that he could slowly sink into. _Dean Winchester likes girls._

So, the question is, who was he trying to convince: himself or everyone else?

* * *

Castiel felt Dean's confusion and irritation through the bond created when he pulled the oldest Winchester out of Hell.

The angel ran a hand over his face, the stubble scratching the smooth surface of his palm, before resting his chin on his knuckles, looking through the spaces between the trees at the small kids playing on the playground. He breathed in the scent of nature, letting the air swirl within his chest before exhaling slowly. As an angel of the Lord, he didn't need to breathe. Oxygen was not a necessity for him, but he liked the feel of Jimmy's lungs working to keep the heart pumping. Sometimes, the feeling helped him think.

When Dean had kissed him, he hadn't known what to think and he had stopped breathing. Had he liked the feeling? Yes. The hunter's lips pressed against his had sent sparks down his spine. Had his vessel's body - no, _his_ body - reacted to the sensation? So much so that his Grace had shown through his pupils.

So, why was he running away from the hunter instead of pulling him into his arms?

* * *

Castiel felt Dean's call, and before the hunter was even done talking, he felt that familiar rush of air and heard the rustle of wings. They stared at each other, both too scared to talk and both too confused to risk messing it - whatever _it_ was - up.

Dean looked at Castiel, and Castiel looked at Dean. The hunter noticed that when Caswas thinking hard, lines formed between his eyebrows as they pulled together. He thought that was rather cute, and that it fit nicely into Castiel's oblivious personality.

The angel noticed that when Dean was thinking hard, his cheeks would sink into his mouth and his lips would twist in ways that indicated chewing. And somehow, that was all Castiel needed to be pushed. He didn't like the idea of Dean's lips being moved by muscle or talking or anything else but his own.

The kiss was awkward, and Castiel felt Dean pause, but he didn't stop. His mind was made up, and he wanted his way. The angel's pink tongue poked out, pressing against Dean's chapped lips. He responded then, opening his mouth to invite Castiel inside.

Dean was highly aware of the space between their bodies. He made a sound of displeasure before reaching out to grab Castiel's trench coat, pulling the angel to him quickly. Neither planned on going further at that moment, but both had the desire to be as close as possible. Dean's left hand pointlessly held onto Cas' tie to make sure he stayed there, while his right hand reached up to grab his angel's untidy hair.

Castiel's subconsciousness told him that he was taking the girl's role, but he was fine with that. His own right hand was rested on Dean's marked shoulder and his left gripped a ball of Dean's shirt, and noises of pleasure were escaping from his mouth and into Dean's.

They were so wrapped up in the kiss that they didn't hear the door open, or hear it close a minute later.

* * *

Sam smiled to himself as he shut the motel room's door. Most people - especially those of the male species - would have been disgusted of what he just saw. Not him, though.

_Finally_, he figured out what was wrong: sexual tension. Sure, he didn't have the whole story. He probably didn't even have half the story. But he saw all he needed, and that was the fix to the month-long problem.

He ducked into the Impala and turned the keys. All he had to do now was go to Bobby's for the night and fill him in, as well as ask him for a place to stay.

* * *

_I actually wrote this one in chemistry. I kind of laughed at the irony once I realized it. I had planned on each little section being different chapters, because with it written out on paper, they were each a page or so long. However, I forgot that handwriting takes more space than typing. So instead, I just put the divider in there and called it a day._

_Not totally happy with it, either, because there are some parts that I think could be better (mostly Sam's sections). But I'd like to think I'm making progress with the whole description stuff._


End file.
